


The Return

by semaphoredrivethru



Series: Dirty Rotten Scoundrels [7]
Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF
Genre: Comment Fic, M/M, Spies!AU, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-12
Updated: 2011-11-12
Packaged: 2017-10-25 23:26:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/276011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semaphoredrivethru/pseuds/semaphoredrivethru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James returns home after being away far too long and it seems like he might be looking for a proper welcome home. Or is he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Return

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for your patience, everyone. It seems like the most sure-fire way to make my life busy is to start a new project. Pffft, who needs work, right?
> 
> Inspired by [this pic](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lu0ad6cSNn1r3mi7vo2_500.jpg) and [this one](http://27.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lu08u7prwr1qigcj6o1_500.jpg).

Michael showered quickly, toweling off his hair as he strode across his bedroom to the large walk-in closet. He didn't have any meetings until lunch, not according to the schedule Nicholas had slipped under his door last night, but he still had a whole morning's worth of work ahead of him, campaign decisions to make, and a tracking program to run. Not that the last was likely to bring him good news.

It had been days since his insurance policy had registered any readings. Logically, he knew it could be any number of things, from a flat charge to a broken device, but he also knew it was much more likely that whatever had happened to James's phone had also happened to James as well; the barest hint of that thought had been robbing Michael of more sleep than he was strictly comfortable admitting to. But he'd managed to deal with it, and had ordered a recalibration of the software, completed just the day before.

This morning would be a moment of truth, Michael knew.

He dressed in the closet, pulling on trousers and tucking in his shirt tails just as he heard movement out in the main room. It was early for Nicholas, but not too early, so Michael thought nothing of it as he walked out, still buttoning his shirt.

"What do you have for me today, then?" he asked.

"A postcard and some exotic pocket lint is all, I'm afraid."

Michael's head snapped up, eyes going wide in shock when he saw James sitting in one of his arm chairs. James looked good; thinner than he'd been, in need of a shave, and a bit pale, but good. Alive. And pleased with himself.

"James." Michael kept his voice about twice as calm as he felt. His hands were shaking, so he gave up buttoning his his shirt as a bad job. "Good trip?"

"Productive." James shrugged. "But long. It's good to be home."

"It's good to have you back."

James's smile was pure invitation. "Don't tell me you missed me, Mr. Fassbender. From what I hear, you and Nicholas have been working quite well together."

"We're not starting that again, are we, James?"

James stood and closed the space between them, his hand hot against Michael's skin when he rested it against the bare flesh at the base of his throat. "I think we've started enough things that never seem to get finished, don't you?"

"True." Michael hovered on the edge of uncertainty between asking and taking, their mouths so close he could taste James's breath.

"Unfortunately, some things will have to stay unfinished for a while yet, I'm afraid." James kissed the corner of Michael's mouth as he slid his hand up, the vee between his thumb and forefinger pressing hard enough on Michael's throat to hold him at bay. "Your morning meeting with Nicholas is about to start."

Michael groaned a denial, hands clenching in the already-rumpled fabric of James's shirt. What good was being as powerful as he was if he couldn't have a bloody lie-in?

James chuckled, a low and husky sound that went straight to bits that seemed to be wired exclusively for _James_ and _sex_ these days, even if they'd never gotten a proper test drive, and kissed Michael's jaw, his whiskers scratching at Michael's freshly shaven skin.

"Plus," he whispered, low and intimate, "your whole house has been bugged and there are some things that I'd rather not have an audience for."


End file.
